Aimless
by Cowpuppy
Summary: One Shot. Mia feels hopeless. She sits at the top of the Mercury lighthouse and wonders about her future. Will she be able to find some meaning in her life before it is too late?


The wind whipped about her, tangling her hair around her, blocking her view. It was cold, there at the top of the lighthouse. The beacon provided no warmth. It still shone strong, even after all of the years since she'd watched it lit. Back then, she had tried to prevent its ignition but had been too late. She and her companions had rushed to the aerie only to find that their efforts were futile; the beacon was lit and their enemies had escaped.

It was here, she recalled, that her journey had begun. It was here that she had realized that her childhood companion had become a twisted version of his former self. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. The chilly air shocked her system a little, but she took another breath, and another. The fierce bluster of the wind rocked her backwards. It was exhilarating, to stand here where it had all started, to feel it again. To feel something again.

The summit of the lighthouse was so far off the ground. She stood by the edge and gazed downward, marveling at how small the fountain seemed from her great height. That water was probably freezing, she thought, though it never actually froze. It flowed freely night and day, no matter the temperature, eternally replenishing itself.

That water had taken her job away. She had come back from saving the world to find that Imil no longer needed a healer. Their every ailment was taken care of by the mystical fountain. She marveled at its pristine surface. Though the wind howled and roared around her, the top of the water looked absolutely serene, a beautiful sheet of glass reflecting the heavy clouds in the sky.

Oh, it had been such a short time since she had left this place, it seemed. She had left the town, strode out into the world, into a warm, bright world full of life and marvels. She had seen every corner of their world. From jungles to deserts, she had been through every clime, had weathered all of the elements and had met people with such vibrance and energy that she herself felt completely renewed.

Yet here she was, back in the frozen world of her youth, stuck in the past. Aside from that glistening pool, nothing had changed. She was still taking care of her apprentices. People still treated her as innocent young Mia, the pretty but quiet girl.

They did not know what she had seen! What she had done! But how could they know? No one besides her apprentices bothered to talk to her. Now that she had saved the world it seemed that they viewed her as even more of an idol, not just shy but off-limits, something more sterile than a human being.

Why did she not leave Imil? She had done it once, so certainly she could do it again. Yet she remembered her apprentices. She had left them once, and promised not to do so again.

But now it frustrated her, to be bound to this place, leading a life that gave her no joy and left her with no goals. She sat down, swinging her legs over the edge of the lighthouse. It was so high… she could almost touch the clouds from this height, she thought, chuckling at the impossibility.

This place put her at ease. There was nothing here but the wind and the sky, and no one had the skills to reach the top and bother her. It was her sanctuary. Down there, with the fountain that had stolen her vocation and the people who avoided her, was everything she wanted to avoid.

She thought about her companions. What could they possibly be doing now? She was sure that they had found some new passion. They had all been such wonderful people. They were unique. Ivan was a brilliant young man, bright and full of enthusiasm for life. Garet was bold and honest. He never hid what he felt. And there was Isaac, of course. He had something wonderful inside him, that everyone could see. To those who did not know him, perhaps, he was a nondescript fellow, an average man. But to those who knew him, and followed him, he was so much more. Unsure, perhaps, of what had been thrust so suddenly upon him, but courageous and strong enough to rise to the task. She had seen limitless potential inside of him, potential to do so much for the world and for himself.

She had admired him greatly, and felt great affection for him still, but nothing had ever come of it. The chance had been missed. She let out a sigh, wondering at everything she was passing up by being here, feeling her life slip out from under her.

She missed the feeling of uncertainty. Where would they go next? Would it be safe to camp here? Would their journey even be successful? Now, things were going nowhere. Each day was like the last, dragging on endlessly. She knew exactly what would happen, when she would wake, where she would go. The dialogue changed by day but she felt as though it were all scripted. Her movements were choreographed to a slow, monotonous beat.

Back then, she had felt so optimistic. Despite the constant state of not knowing what was going to happen next, she believed, unflinchingly, that everything would work out. That their goal would be reached. It kept her moving; it kept her pressing onward.

And what did she have now? The same old town. The same old people. They had succeeded but where had it led? A year after everything, she was back where she had come from. She was back at the beginning of the road, staring down at the footprints she had left all that time ago. But as she watched, that wind came in and blew them away. Everything she had done, everything she had accomplished, carried away by time. She was left with nothing. She could start anew but she was held back. Promises. She had made promises.

It was not only the promises, though. There was just reluctance. What good would it do to walk that path again? There would be no goal. She would not be walking towards the future but running from all of her commitments. But that was it. Her choices were laid out for her, and they were both chilling. Run, and always feel the drag of those broken promises, or stay, and live her life to the end and watch everything decay.

It was all too much. She had come to clear her mind but all that had happened was that a fog had settled over her. She wanted to go home and rest, now.

She swung around to lift her legs up off the edge. The height was still dizzying. The wind was still strong, even stronger now. The stones were slick under her fingers. There was a gust. She felt herself slipping, felt her fingers sliding off over the edge. Her legs were not up yet. Where were the grooves, the mortar between the bricks? She scrambled, grasping for any kind of hold. She did not even notice the chill of the wind now.

There was nothing she could do. She felt weightless. She gazed up at the sky, so wonderfully blue, peppered with little swathes of clouds. She felt exhilaration. Her nerves tingled like they hadn't since they had saved the world. She breathed in, feeling the suddenness of the cold air in her system.

And then there was a crack, and her world went black. She drifted. She was melting. It was warm and just so comfortable, spilling up over her toes and fingers and neck. Up over her chin and her lips. She felt soft. The wind stroked her forehead, gently, whispering in her ear. She wondered what would happen to her next. She did not know. She was not sure. She wanted to say goodbye to her apprentices. They would be so sad. They should have come with her on a journey around the world. She would have liked to have taken them.

She took another breath, and it was cold, and thick, and wet. She swallowed it. On a cushion, she sank. Her body, she thought, could not exist anymore. She could not feel it. Her consciousness drifted. She slipped away.

* * *

Her eyes popped open, and she felt pressure all around her. Above her, the surface of the water rippled and glistened. She could see the blue sky through it.

With all her might, she paddled for the surface, bubbles streaming from her nose. She broke through with one hand, and then another, pulling her head forward. She struggled toward the side of the pool, gasping for breath, freezing in the atmosphere. She was alive. Where was she?

When she realized where she was, she laughed. She laughed until her body shook and she coughed, spitting up the water she'd inhaled. The fountain. She pulled herself out and shivered. She would freeze soon. Walking towards the town, she continued laughing. What a miracle. She could not wait to see her little apprentices. She shook with the cold and with anticipation. Her hair was plastered to her face and her lips were turning blue but she felt robust. She could see the town, and the tundra behind it. And beyond that, the mountains, and the horizon. She saw deserts and forests, and wide oceans, and creatures of all sizes.

She broke into a run though her legs were stiff from the cold. She sprinted. The air she breathed in was cold, and froze as she drew it in, but she did not care. She had a vision now, a goal. She could see it ahead of her, just out of reach. As she ran towards it, it seemed as though life surged back into her. She would not give up this time, she could not give up. The wind was at her back.

* * *

So, there it is. I went through so many incarnations of this. But I finally found a little inspiration and a theme that I really needed to write about.

I considered, for the ending, having her just fall into the fountain and die. But I didn't want to be a big jerk, and I also didn't want to have a story where death solves the problem. Obviously I've had stories where people died before, but in this case it would just feel too much like a suicide and I couldn't bring myself to write that.

In any case, I hope you enjoyed it, even a little bit, and as usual I encourage any kind of suggestions or criticisms you may have to offer.


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